


(don't know how to) say no to this

by Slumber



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:41:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26144293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slumber/pseuds/Slumber
Summary: At least the Ritz-Carlton didn't skimp on their bathrooms.Fitzjames' Story: The One With Eating A Failed Proposal In It.
Relationships: Captain Francis Crozier/Commander James Fitzjames
Comments: 10
Kudos: 38
Collections: @terror_exe Flash Fest





	(don't know how to) say no to this

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xRinsexRepeatx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xRinsexRepeatx/gifts).



> <.< >.> ♥

At least the Ritz-Carlton didn't skimp on their bathrooms.

It was an odd thought for even James to have, but one difficult to ignore when the antiseptic smell of freshly wiped sinks and toilet lids pervaded his senses, the soothing tinkling of piano music piped in through unobtrusive speakers overhead. He wouldn't dirty his fresh-from-the-drycleaners slacks, when his knees hit the floor, didn't have to worry about the way his back hits the marble partitioning that separate stall from stall. 

"You'll have to be quiet," he murmured, breathless from the bruising way his lips had been claimed and bitten and licked into just moments ago, a little dizzy from the taste of whiskey left on his tongue. He grappled for a zip, thick calloused fingers curling into his hair and gripping tight. He wasn't given a moment to tease, the hand against him urging him forward as he was made to swallow deep.

And for a while, they were. 

Nothing more than the wet sound of spit against flesh, punctuated by the occasional grunt of a man who'd slurred his words and stumbled into James's chest, earlier, cheeks red from liquor and eyes even redder, when James finally found him again, curled up in a corner of the lobby.

James's own eyes prickled with heat, the insistent press of cock against the back of his throat too much too fast, relentless all the same. He yanked his head back, spit sliding down the corner of his mouth before he wiped it off with the back of his hand.

"Got a better idea," he murmured in explanation, curling his lips up at the look of confusion that plagued the man's— _Francis_ , that was his name— face.

He said nothing in response, but he let James back on his feet, let James tower over him, let James place hands on his shoulders and push him down to a seat. 

"Take these off," James said, leaning down to tug Francis' pants down his thighs until they hung around his ankles, then guiding Francis' own hand around his flagging cock. "Keep that hard for me, will you."

There was a glimmer of interest now in Francis' gaze, a sharpness that had been dulled by the evening resurfacing as he watched. James, though tempted to put on a good show, was tempted even more by what lay ahead, so he made quick work of his pants, shucking them to the side, quick work of the foil packet he always kept in his pocket, even quicker work of preparing himself, two fingers first in Francis' mouth, then in him.

"You see?" he gasped, sinking down on Francis finally, arms around his shoulder and Francis' hands gripping tight around his waist, the slide slow and painful, of the good kind of ache, until Francis bottomed out, and he could take a breath, and they could both begin to move.

"You're right," Francis breathed. "This is much, much better."

* * *

"Excuse me, sir," James had said, approaching the man who'd dined at their restaurant, who'd stayed there until closing. He'd ordered everything ahead, the staff told James, everything for two, including special instructions for the dessert.

He'd waved all of the food away after the second hour. Told James the staff could have them. Asked for more whiskey instead, and yes, he'd like to keep the table.

But nobody had turned up. Not in the four and a half hours he'd waited.

The man was half-asleep now, sitting in a corner of the hotel lobby. He stirred only to glance blearily at James. "M'I getting kicked out here too?"

"No, sir," he'd said, holding up the ring he'd nearly swallowed from a bite of the man's tiramisu. "Just thought I'd return this."

**Author's Note:**

> Everything I know about The Terror I learned by osmosis. But kudos and comments are welcome! ♥


End file.
